


Sweet as Candy

by Val_Creative



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Bittersweet Ending, Blood and Gore, Branded/Marked as Property, Cannibalism, College/University, Demon/Human Relationships, Demonic Possession, Existential Crisis, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Halloween, Hearing Voices, Horror, Humor, Introspection, Kinktober, Kinktober 2019, Marking & Scarring, Past Suicide Attempt, Reckless Behavior, Romantic Friendship, Shame, Suicidal Thoughts, Suppression of Emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-10-26 07:34:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20738561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: There's a couple of important things to remember about Candy: her full name is Candice Marie Peterson. Phone number 555-8193. She's a sophomore undergrad majoring in Communications, after dropping out of a Nursing degree. Something about negligence and a severe lack of empathy. Her height is 5'7 in heels.She's not Candy though. Candy shares a bedroom with her, decorating it entirely with sparkly, pink twinkle-lights and silvery ribbons, and never hears a complaint.She doesn't remember much beyond Candy.





	Sweet as Candy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ilthit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilthit/gifts).

> I absolutely loved being part of Darkest Night 2018 and this year I'm even more excited! I hope my giftee and everyone else reading likes this! (Yes, I did draw a little inspiration from Jennifer's Body.) Any thoughts/comments so appreciated!

*

There's a couple of important things to remember about Candy: her full name is Candice Marie Peterson. Phone number 555-8193. She's a sophomore undergrad majoring in Communications, after dropping out of a Nursing degree. Something about negligence and a severe lack of empathy. Her height is 5'7 in heels.

She's not Candy though. Candy shares a bedroom with her, decorating it entirely with sparkly, pink twinkle-lights and silvery ribbons, and never hears a complaint.

She doesn't remember much beyond Candy.

_ (But shouldn't she?) _

Candy's name rings brightly in all of her recent memories, but not her own name. That doesn't seem right. Everyone's got a name. She does pick up on Candy, whenever Candy notices her, addressing her as Girl.

It's all she ever hears from Candy.

"Girl, get up!" in the morning, when she jerks awake on her pillow open-mouthed, drooling and mid-snore, and Candy frowns over the visible dark roots in her vanity mirror — "Damn, girl, clean your fucking dishes! They're everywhere!" from the hallway, and she watches in a hungry, faint daze as Candy strolls to the door, the triangle of her shiny, violet thong peeking from her low-rider jeans — "Whoa, okay. You look like you ate some bad Thai or something, girl," Candy mutters, eyeballing her while snuggled up on the other side of the loveseat. The television's glare reflects against Candy's skin too many shades too dark of a one hundred dollar self-tanner lotion.

It smells like drowning, dying flowers.

But it's not just Candy living with her. Sometimes, Girl can hear voices.

Whispers.

Whispers urging her to hurt Candy and professors and strangers walking by the dorms. Her classmates sitting and minding their own business at lunch. To _consume_.

She doesn't know if she's ever been a reckless person before. But eating raw, noxious meat out of the deli's garbage seems a little alarming… blacking out and seizing… finding her primrose-printed sheets covered in dirt and mud, caking between Girl's toes… furiously arguing with the violent voices…

A janitor is found dead in the parking lot of the Main Building, his throat gored out. Bitten.

Girl cries hysterically, alone in the bathroom, lodging Candy's sparkly, pink nail-file under her nails, scraping the dead, old flesh free.

She vomits an obscene amount of blood into the tub. It's just not _hers_.

When she attempts to jump out of her third-story window, Girl's forearm snaps, its bone halving.

The blinding, white-hot pain causes her to faint, and she stirs back to consciousness in the morning, face-down on the rug. Her arm bones intact. She should probably go to the hospital, but fear and uncertainty grips her. Girl sweats and huffs around their dormitory, swaddling herself in blankets and pulling on sweat-clothes, hoping the never-ending fever somehow gets her hospitalized by someone else.

There's not enough alcohol to stop the voices forever. She binges on Absolut and Grey Goose, unable to focus on homework piling up and emails threatening to remove her from courses.

Candy doesn't seem to pay much attention to anyone but herself — it's already four months into the new school year, or so says the calendar, and she's notorious for sleeping around with the fraternity boys. It's part of a ritual designed for Candy by the upperclassmen to join a popular, well-respected sorority.

During a long, painful shower after trying to impale herself unsuccessfully with a knife duct-taped to the exercise bike, Girl discovers a burn-brand scarred on the very back of her thigh. A set of Greek letters. Upon further inspection, she also discovers more twisted, deep-scarring sigils on her ass and lower back. Like they were slashed right into her meat with carving knives. Marked for an unexplained reason.

"I did it," Candy — Candice — Girl calls her _Candice_, because no one else will, "I let it happen."

They sit together on Candy's bed, with its princess-style bedding and luxuriously soft mattress, face-to-face as she explains, her hand grasping trembling over Girl's fingers.

Delta Gamma Beta, on top of being the highest in academics and finances as a sorority, also happens to keep a tradition of occult practices. Her soon-to-be sorority sisters insisted to Candy, while pleasing every fraternity brother who would have her, that sacrificing Girl to a nameless demon Halloween night would prove she was a worthy Pledge.

"Jenny said they needed to spill virgin blood," Candy says like she's near tears, whining, but carefully fanning her empty, bejeweled hand over her tear-free eyes. Redoing her fake eyelashes and liner would be the _worst_. "I didn't know she was an actual psycho bitch, okay? I thought she was just gonna scare you."

_ Eat her. _

One of the demonic, low-rumbling voices echoes vengefully in her head. And, hell, Girl is seriously considering it.

That is such a shitty _fucking_ thing to do to your poor innocent roommate!

Candy tosses herself at Girl, hugging her, nuzzling under Girl's neck and apologizing quietly. Even if she doesn't entirely believe Candy, Girl pets long, soft, golden-red locks and breathes her in. Decadent, fragrant perfume. Beneath that… my, _my_, every inch of Candy is flesh and hot, pulsing blood.

Her pinkness, her softness. Girl's left hand fumbles over Candy's mound in her short-shorts, applying light, teasing pressure. She doesn't know how they got here, with lips clashing, with Candy's warm, firm breasts exposed and heaving. Drool gleams over her too-tanned skin, as Girl kisses and suckles her way down to Candy's bellybutton ring. Her teeth grazing and pulling hard on the small, diamond-ball band.

This is _hers_.

Girl licks over Candy's newly waxed pussy, flattening her tongue, listening to her roommate's inhale hitch. Fluid dribbles out of her entrance, her inner muscles tightening delightfully when Girl's tongue prods gently inside, massaging her depths. So much for her Straight Slutty Roommate being _straight_.

She devours her, labia first, chewing and gurgling, ravenous on the odor and taste of sex. Candy's dark, sweet blood gushes into Girl's nostrils and mouth.

She — _they_ — must have her. Inside, outside.

Always.

*


End file.
